Chapter 5 - The Marquetti Gambits
The following evening, the annual Boston Symphony Gala was held at the Wang Theatre. It was the highest society event of the season, a place where fortunes were flaunted and alliances were cemented. Under normal circumstances, the Marquettis would have been the guests of honor. Tonight, they were social lepers.
Marcus and Celeste arrived anyway, desperate to show the world they were not yet defeated.
The crowd parted around them like the Red Sea, whispers following their every step. Celeste kept her chin high, though her eyes darted nervously around the grand lobby. Suddenly, the murmurs died down completely.
Damon Calas had entered the theater.
He wore a tailored tuxedo, his presence commanding the room without effort. He didn't have a date; he didn't need one. He was accompanied only by Leo and two other silent men.
Marcus intercepted him near the grand staircase. "Damon," Marcus said, his voice loud enough to draw an audience. "We need to talk. Privately."
Damon paused, looking at Marcus as if he were an annoying insect on his windshield. "I have nothing to say to you, Marcus. My attorneys have already filed the default notices."
"I think you do," Marcus whispered, stepping closer, his face twisting into a malicious sneer. "We did some digging into your little waitress. Adriana Voss. Such an interesting history. Her husband was quite close to you, wasn't he? And now she's carrying a little piece of history inside her. I wonder how Silvio Barretti would feel knowing the bloodline of the man who stole his primary ledger is still beating?"
Celeste stood behind her father, a smug, vindictive smile returning to her face. She thought they had won. She thought they had found the leash to tame the beast.
Damon didn't flinch. He didn't show anger. Instead, a slow, terrifying smile spread across his lips.
"Do you know why I let you walk into this theater tonight, Marcus?" Damon asked softly, his voice carrying a chilling, melodic quality. "Because I wanted everyone in this city to see you before you vanished. Look around. Enjoy the music. Because by midnight, the banks take the keys to your hotels. And by tomorrow morning, the federal authorities will receive an anonymous tip regarding your illegal offshore accounts and your sudden, desperate communications with a known cartel leader."
May you like
Marcus’s smile froze. "You're bluffing."
"I don't bluff," Damon whispered, leaning in so close Celeste could hear the gravel in his voice. "You thought the waitress was my weakness. You foolish, arrogant old man. She isn't my weakness. She is my purpose."
